Dissociative Identity
by ZacckFairy
Summary: Allen is an actor who lives alone is a well developed area. One night, similar to many before it, Allen goes to his kitchen for a midnight snack. He feels something is off but what he gets is something more complicated than he thought. No explicit stuff this is a shonen ai so that means boyXboy don't like don't read. May edit summary in the future. Title will be changed eventually.


**A/N:** Hello everyone! I have an obsession with -Man (specifically Yullen/Arekan) and I ended up writing this somehow. I am new to this (definitely new to posting on this website) so I'd appreciate advice. I would also highly appreciate comments because I'd like to know if I should continue this and how I can improve my writing. I think that's all from me for now.

 **Warnings:** some coarse language (because Kanda) including swearing, blood but nothing explicit. I think that's it...

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters only the plot.

* * *

Hunger, the bane of all existence.

Oh, what he wouldn't give to defeat this infernal beast, that which torments him throughout the night!

Allen, once again, gives in. He slinks to the kitchen, expecting to hear Alexa's voice asking if he needs any assistance, but instead he hears an unfamiliar noise.

A human noise.

He whirls, half-expecting to see a shadowy figure.

But no one is there.

"Are you alright Allen? Do you need anything?" Alexa asks as usual.

"…No, thank you," Allen replies.

He decides that he is seeing things that aren't really there. It's the middle of the night. He's probably just tired.

Allen goes back to his room and collapses on his bed after eating. As he closes his eyes, he hears that sound again, and this time he is _sure_ he's heard something. His eyes fly open, and he scans the room.

He knows that there is no way he'll be able to go back to sleep before reassuring himself that there is no one else, other than him, in his house. He lives alone and therefore, there should not be anyone other than him here.

Well there is Alexa, but as the house's Artificial Intelligence, so she doesn't count.

"Alexa, turn the lights on please," his voice sounds shaky, even to him.

The lights flare.

He is starting to doubt his sanity since, clearly, there is no one there. His room is the same as always. The closet to the right remains devoid of any significant life forms (other than the occasional spider); The window to his left shines on his bare night table. The door remains ajar, as dark as a portal to space. The room is empty save for some clothes tossed on the floor; there is nowhere to hide, unless one was the ever-elusive wallet.

He peers at the window to check if the voice is coming from outside. He sees nothing.

And then it all goes black.

He whips around blindly, his eyes still unadjusted to the dark.

He smells the blood before he's pinned on the floor.

Allen, despite his shock, breaks out of his attacker's hold. Oh, how the tables have turned, for Allen is now the one pinning the intruder down. He is surprised to find that it is easier than expected to escape his attacker and put them in a hold.

Being the helpful AI she is Alexa turns the lights on again.

Allen is shocked to see that his attacker is a gorgeous foreign guy… or is it a girl? He is confused by how beautiful and slender the intruder is. He, or she, is covered in dirt and blood, but is still good looking. Their long, navy hair is a matted and wild mess. He wonders what they'd look like if they were clean.

Allen decides the intruder is probably a man. Hopefully he's right, because this position would be far more awkward is if the person is a she (that's what you think Allen).

Now that he's no longer seeing spots and he can see the guy properly, he can tell why it was easy to pin him, the man had more injuries than he thought. It's amazing he even managed to move at all, much less pin him down.

The man is obviously displeased, and even in his sorry state, he is glaring daggers at Allen. He is snapped out of his stupor when the intruder begins to struggle more aggressively than before, but to no avail as Allen's hold is strong.

"Alexa send the maintenance robot over with some first aid supplies and something to restrain the intruder." Allen says, eyeing the ever-increasing pools of blood.

At this point the intruder is still glaring but has stopped struggling. Allen finds himself wondering how to fix the breathing catastrophe before him.

God forbid the intruder died under his roof.

Or worse, bleed on his carpet.

"Aren't you going to call the police?" the intruder snarls.

"I have to deal with those wounds first then I'll decide," Allen states, completely unfazed.

Suspicious. That's all that Kanda can think of. He broke into this kid's house, and worse, _attacked_ him and the kid worries about his health? How could he not be skeptical?

But as he's trying to figure out what the kid is thinking, the robot the kid sent away earlier comes back with first aid supplies and handcuffs.

Wait… handcuffs? Where the hell did he get the handcuffs from? Did he not call the police because he _is_ the police?

He doesn't let his panic show; he can't give the kid anymore advantage than he already has. It's doubtful, but if he is, he might not have been informed to be on the lookout for him…

The kid wrestles with him to restrain him with the help of the robot because he's not cooperating.

"Do _not_ touch me," the Kanda snaps.

"Shut up, I'm helping you," the kid snaps back.

"Why?"

"You're bleeding on my floor."

That is the only explanation he offers as he continues dressing the wounds.

"What's your name?" the kid inquires.

"Why should I tell you?" he stubbornly responds.

"Fine then, I'll just call you girly-man then."

"Who you calling girly, you bean sprout?"

"What? Bean sprout? I AM NOT SHORT!"

The damn brat applies more pressure than necessary on the wound he's dressing.

"Damn you, bean sprout!"

"It's not bean sprout, it's Allen!"

"Huh?" is his intelligent reply. Kanda can't believe he said something so stupid. He mentally berates himself for slipping up no matter his condition.

"My name, it's Allen. Are you stupid or something?" He's on a roll now, his voice rising in indignation. "Do you need me to spell it for you? A-l-l-e-n, it's not that hard girly-man."

"The hell did you just call me?"

"If you don't like it then tell me your name. I told you mine after all."

The only reply Kanda gives him is "…Che…" so he drops the subject for now and finishes up with the first aid.

Honestly, as if Kanda can tell the kid his name! If he recognizes him then he'll arrest him for sure! He can't get arrested and go back to that place! He has a mission to carry out.

He only called that kid bean sprout on impulse, but he really does remind him of bean sprouts. He's so scrawny, with silver eyes, and snow white hair. He's really pale too; to the point that if the sprout hadn't already touched him then he might have believed that he was a ghost. Since he's not a ghost, he's a beansprout.

Obviously.

The only feature about him that ruins the ethereal image is the red, unusually shaped scar that goes down the left side of his face, a line of blood on snow. The scar starts from his forehead, an upside down pentacle, and straight through his left eye. Below looks like a messily drawn number five.

Not that he would ever say it out loud, but he actually likes the scar. It makes beansprout look less delicate, despite how scrawny he is.

Beansprout's voice suddenly snaps him out of his thoughts.

"You must be hungry. I'll go get something for you to eat. You need to raise your blood sugar too."

He is still skeptical, but Beansprout is right about him being hungry.

"Soba," he informs the sprout.

"Huh?" Allen asks, whirling to face him.

"Who is the idiot now, bean sprout? I said I want to eat soba."

"Soba? What's soba? I've never heard of a food by that name. I'll just bring you whatever. And I already told you, my name is Allen!"

"I won't eat anything that is not soba."

"Then _starve_."

"Che…"

At this point, Kanda notes smugly, Beansprout looks annoyed. He wonders why he hasn't called the police yet.

"If you are not hungry and in no immediate danger of dying then, I'll call the police now, you should be safe with them." Beansprout says voice laced with annoyance.

He doesn't let any of his panic show on his face but he does tense up. He's not sure if 'Sprout noticed him tensing up or not; he's not sure it matters either way since Beansprout is calling the police anyway.

Wonderful. Just fan- _fucking_ -tastic. He _had_ to jinx it, as the idiot rabbit would say. He must really be losing it to think of the rabbit at a time like this.

* * *

Allen notices girly-man tense up slightly at his words, although his expression remains as before, glaring venomously. He may be handcuffed to the bed by one hand, but that is only for both their safety; he doesn't need to be so grouchy about it.

Now that he is calmer and doesn't have to deal with blood staining his floor, he realizes that he was shaken up enough that his mask, that usually comes to him naturally, has been gone this whole time. Even though he was thrown out of sorts because of this guy, his mask is usually more solid than this. Is it because he just woke up or is it because of girly-man specifically? Allen decides to stop thinking about it for now and call the police before this guy causes any more trouble for him; good thing he doesn't have rehearsal tomorrow.

Allen having regained his composure puts on his polite smile as he always does; he starts to his phone when he feels his wrist being grabbed.

"Don't," girly-man hisses, grabbing his wrist.

Allen turns his head to face the intruder, his expression a polite mask.

"Why not?" he replies with a polite tone to match the smile, "You broke into my house so I am calling the police; it's only natural. I only helped you because it would be bad for me if you died on my floor while the police are on their way."

It seems he's wearing the guy down because there was some panic was starting to creep into his voice. Allen was no fool, he knew that this man was doing it on purpose, not to say the panic was faux, but the delivery was. If he wanted the man could have hidden all traces of panic, Allen should know being an actor himself.

But seriously who does this guy think he is? In this situation he should be begging Allen not to give him away not being rude and aggravating him further. Allen is doesn't get him at all; he supposes that it doesn't matter anyway since the police will be coming soon.

Girly-man breaks through his thoughts with a much quieter tone than before; so now he's changing his strategy huh.

"They are the ones after me," girly-man murmurs oh-so-helpfully.

Allen more is even more suspicious about the identity of this guy now, even an idiot would know better than saying something like that.

"Isn't that all the more reason to call the police? If they were after you that means that you are a fugitive does it not?" he retorts, smile still in place.

He thinks he sees a flash of panic in the intruder's eyes, but it's gone before he is sure.

Girly-man opens his mouth to say something when the doorbell ringing cuts him off.

Still facing his attacker, Allen addresses Alexa once more.

"Alexa bring up an image of the visitor please," Allen orders.

"Do you mean the next person to face your wrath for coming to your place at such an obscene hour?" Alexa teases.

Allen sighs inwardly. Whose idea was it to program a personality into Alexa again? Right the Trash King.

"Yes Alexa; image now please," is what he actually says, his façade not wavering.

Allen is expects it to be his best friend who often crashes over at his place when he parties too hard. Allen internally groans at the thought of giving him a convincing excuse for having a bandaged fugitive in his house. He may look like an idiot, but he's actually very observant so Allen's excuse better be good.

Allen looks at the feed coming from the security camera installed at his front door; his mask barely hiding his shock. It is the police at his door not his obnoxious friend Lavi. They are most likely looking for the girly-man who STILL hasn't let go of his wrist.

The doorbell rings again. Allen turns to girly-man giving him a pleasant smile.

"Let go please, I need to answer the door," Allen says good naturedly, trying to keep his façade in place despite his shock from earlier.

"I won't," he says flatly, yet his eyes betray his panic, "They'll take me back to that place. I finally escaped and there is no way I'm going back."

Allen is taken aback because he didn't expect any information. Not wanting to waste this opportunity he presses him for more information.

"Go back? Where? Prison?" Allen remarks more than asks, dumbfounded.

"No, not prison. I'm not a criminal," he growls impatiently, panic more evident now. Is that a hint of desperation in those cobalt eyes?

There is knocking on the door now; the police are getting impatient. Allen takes another glance at the camera feed, taking in the faces of the officers in case he recognizes any of them to make this process go more smoothly.

He freezes when he recognizes the identity of the man leading the police.

He looks back at girly-man, his mask melting into a look of horror, his face a white sheet.


End file.
